


The Five Stages of Grief by Draco Malfoy

by Gabanana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 09:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabanana/pseuds/Gabanana
Summary: After the war, many were grieving the departure of their loved ones and helping each other go through the so-called "Five Stages". Although Draco had watched from afar, he wasn't prepared for it when his time came. No one ever is.





	The Five Stages of Grief by Draco Malfoy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mothermalfoy (slytherinxravenclaw)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherinxravenclaw/gifts).



His fingers danced quietly on the grand piano in Malfoy Manor, his mind being consumed by the void his music created. He felt like a ghost stuck in this plane for its regrets. He felt numb, full of sorrow and yet not enough. But it couldn’t be over.

He could already see it. His friends jumping at him out of nowhere to laugh at how he was sulking and calling him a crybaby, assuring him it was just a joke. Yeah, that was probably it, just a bad joke made by my stupid friends again, he thought. The sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts, making him stop his melancholic tune.

“Hey.”

It was Potter again, always meddling with other people’s business. He was probably the one who thought about the joke. It’d be worth a lifetime of material for teasing: Draco Malfoy crying. He couldn’t show he knew, of course. He just wouldn’t give them what they wanted, they wouldn’t see him cry. Malfoys never cry. That’s what his father always said at least.

“Potter,” Draco spat.

“Don’t be like that, please. I thought we were past all the sneering,” Harry sounded hurt and tired. Red-rimmed eyes, clumped and wet eyelashes and a runny nose. He almost felt bad for spatting his name that way, but then he remembered his friends’ plan to make him sad and just stared back at his reflection on the shiny wood of the piano. He was also a mess, his hair sticking out in every direction possible after running his hands incessantly over it and his eyes shiny with the desire to just let go. He was ashamed of his state as a Malfoy, so he got up and started walking towards the loo so he would look at least presentable. But of course bloody Potter had to stop him.

“If you need someone to talk to, just now I’m here. I know we’re not on good terms, but I do care about you. She... She was import-”

“Don’t you dare talk about her. I gave you no right. Now let me go so I can stay as far away from you as possible,” Draco snorted before taking his wrist from Harry’s grasp and fleeing towards his initial goal. Meanwhile, the green-eyed boy looked after him with a shattered heart, trying to glue himself back together while other people came to greet him.

“Fuck,” the blond muttered as he stared at his reflection. It reminded him so much of his sixth year in Hogwarts and he hated it. He hated that filthy bathroom, Moaning Myrtle’s screams, his tears and his blood everywhere. So much blood, scarlet, viscous and gushing out of him. He hated Harry Potter. Maybe he should go out and scream so he’d Sectumsempra him again. Yeah, that should teach him a lesson. But no, he couldn’t know he had discovered the joke. They’ll see, he thought, I can also laugh about their stupid pranks.

Getting some Sleekeazy from the cabinet so his hair would be tamed, he washed his face and began the styling. He had to look handsome for his guests, so he’d be the one laughing at them instead. Never tickle a sleeping dragon, right? Just as he was finishing, there was a knock at the door.

“Malfoy, please, talk to me,” Potter sounded pitiful.

Now this really reminded him of all the stalking in sixth year. Great, he ruined my mood again, he thought. As he opened the door after putting the hair potion away, he put on his best mask and prepared for the worst.

“To what do I owe this honour, Potter? What could a peasant like me possibly do for The Boy Who Lived?” Draco sneered, using sarcasm to protect everything from falling apart.

“Gods, you really hate me, don’t you? Couldn’t you be nice to me on your mother’s fu-“

“I bloody told you not to talk about her, didn’t I? And you shall not tell me how to behave myself,” he almost screamed, not caring about who could hear them.

“You’re right, sorry. I just thought we could... Nevermind, I won’t bother you again,” Harry sighed and left, looking even worse than before. But that was the price for his actions, thought Draco. Yeah, he had to pay. They could never be friends. There was just too much unbearable history between them, and they didn’t carry the burden on their own.

He sat on a wooden bench by the lake on the manor’s garden, looking at the carps swimming and the grass swaying lightly as the wind blew. It was truly a beautiful sight. He came here a lot as a kid, not having a lot of friends to play with. He’d fly on the brooms his father bought him and have his afternoon tea on the grass by the water. But that was years ago, not enough but yet too many. When he was admitted to Hogwarts, he was sure there he’d live the best seven years of his life. But he wasn’t counting on a megalomaniac killer being revived and living in his house. He even took his bedroom, just because he could and had the power to do it.

Taking a deep breath, Draco wondered why he was remembering this now. It had been years since the war, since Sectumsempra, since having afternoon tea in the garden. It had been years since everything. He didn’t even know what was happening right now, his thoughts going everywhere but the present. He hadn’t wanted to think about the present for quite some time. It was all too... gut-wrenching.

Right after all that happened, it was hard for him to... to do anything. Buying groceries, going to the bank, leaving Malfoy Manor in general was always a pain. Sometimes literally. They’d spit on his face, bump on his shoulder, kick him, and even punch him if they felt like it. He’d just keep going on his way, spit some blood out of his mouth and take it like the strong man he was raised to be. Like the Death Eater he was. Things had gotten better after the trials. As always, The Saviour of the Wizarding World had to save him again from the bad guys. He spoke for his family and got him out of Azkaban, although he only shortened his parents’ sentences. After the initial ruckus, some of the hatred for his family had lessened and he could leave the house without any physical aggression.

Draco was thankful for Potter, of course, but he still felt like he owed him so much. He was always saving everyone, especially him, yet he hadn’t even paid back. It was always nagging him in the back of his mind, how the man would someday ask for something in return and humiliate him. Malfoys never owe anything to anyone, Lucius used to say. Maybe that has always been his problem. He tried too much to be his father, yet he never could. He had never wanted to.

“I know I said I wouldn’t bother you again, but I really am sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have- I was just trying to help,” Harry started, sitting down next to him, but directly on the grass instead of the bench, afraid he’d make Malfoy flee again. His shoulders sagged as he allowed himself to relax, taking deep breaths and looking at the colourful carps.

“As you always are,” Draco said without the usual bite to his words.

“Why are you so desperately trying not to talk about what happened?”

“What are you implying, Potter? There’s simply nothing to talk about,” the grey-eyed man growled, felling his blood boil at his words. This prank was going too far, when was the big announcement? Surely they had to be here already, hiding in the many passages of the manor. There was barely another hour left of this prank, if they didn’t come out now then...

“Malfoy... Narcissa passed away, you-“

“Don’t say her fucking name!,” Draco screamed his words and got up in a fit of rage, wishing that Potter would just stop pretending and end his misery already. They’d come out any minute now, he knew.

“I know what you’re doing, Potter,” he continued, sounding smug.

“I’m- What?” he sounded confused, but Malfoy knew he was acting.

He thought about not telling him and just playing along with the joke, but he wanted to show he was smarter and could very well take care of himself and not fall for their stupid lies.

“I don’t know how many of you planned this, but I know this is all a prank. Anytime now everyone is going to jump at me and laugh. Well, at least that’s what you all hoped would happen. I assure you, I’ll be the one laughing.“ 

“Oh, Malfoy... That’s not- We’re not pulling a prank on you. Unfortunately, your mother, the funeral... It’s all real. I know you don’t wan-“ Harry felt his body fill with dread, not wanting to shatter the blond even more.

“Stop! Stop lying, stop- Stop whatever it is you’re doing, I just- I just want-“

The tears and the heavy, incontrollable sobbing started. The messy-haired man got up and took careful steps towards the other, trying to take him into his arms, but he got away faster than anything he had seen. He looked at him with horror in his eyes, realization having stricken his poor heart. Then he ran, as if the wind could take him away. As if his feet could take him to his mother. As if... As if he could bring Narcissa Malfoy back.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy to be writing again, it's been so long! I'm sorry if I'm a little rusty, English is not my first language. I hope you all liked it! If so, leave a comment if you can. I'd really appreciate it :)  
> I think I'll be posting every three days or so, but feel free to remind me on Tumblr (ggum-my or femmepuff) or on the comments.  
> Have a lovely day! Thank you for taking the time to read my story.  
> PS.: Thanks Mother Malfoy for giving me inspiration to write again :) go read her fics, everyone, they're really good.


End file.
